A Different View
by Frannie1
Summary: A series of events from The Far Side of the World told from the viewpoint of Faster Doodle. Completed.
1. Chapter One

Author's Note: These characters do not belong to me, but to Patrick O'Brian. The spellings of names have been taken from the books, while events are a mixture of the book and movie. You'll find the main plot of the movie concerning the Acheron is absent and replaced with the book's Norfolk. 

"Michael Doodle, sir. Aye, sir, the guncrew. I will, sir." Michael, or Faster Doodle, as his friends called him, gripped the sack over his shoulder more tightly and began walking across the boarding plank. The start of missions always made him a bit nervous. He was always tongue-tied anyway, but the thought of meeting new people and starting all over again made him even more inarticulate. He could feel himself sweating. God, was it hot. He wiped the perspiration from his brow and stepped onto the deck of the _Surprise_. Much of the crew was already there, and some of the faces he even recognized from previous ships. They looked slightly familiar, anyway, not that he could remember their names. Faster spotted the opening in the deck and made his way down to the berth deck where the crew slept and ate. Rows of hammocks lined both sides of the room, the regulatory fourteen inches apart. Seeing an unfamiliar crewman, he chose the nearest hammock and dropped his things at the foot of it. 

"Hello," he said, slowly wiping his wet hands on the back of his trousers. "Faster Doodle," he stated, sticking out his hand. 

The brown-haired man smiled and shook his hand. "Joseph Nagel. Pleasure, Faster," he said. He bit the edge of his lower lip, thinking, then asked, "You new to this ship?" 

Faster nodded. "Could say that." He removed his hat, pushed his blonde curls back, and then put it on again. "Are you one of the old Surprises?" 

Nagel shook his head. "No, a bunch of us Defenders got transferred over here." Faster nodded, recalling what had happened on the _Defender_: a vicious mutiny, or so he'd heard. "Where've you been stationed?" 

"Topman of the foremast," he replied. "On the guncrew as well." He sighed deeply, thinking. "I heard this Aubrey fellow's a right work'orse, always pushing for more." 

"As long as I get my grog, I'll be fine," Nagel admitted. There was a short moment of silence and a couple more men came down to the berth deck. "They call 'im 'Lucky' Jack, y'know," Nagel said at length. 

"Who?" 

"The Captain," Nagel replied. "I've heard all about him--the men are always talking. They say he's never lost a battle." 

Faster watched Nagel as he talked of Captain Aubrey. He used very slight movements, constantly checking to see that no one was listening. "Let's hope his luck doesn't run out," he said finally. 

"Well, the Defenders are going to give him hell," Nagel said. "That's certain. They don't bow to no one, if you get my meaning." 

"And you'll be giving him hell right along with 'em," Faster assumed. 

"If he's not to my liking, I might." They both looked up as the bell was struck eight times. "Let's go up and meet him, shall we?" Nagel smiled mischievously and started up the deck. Faster, though a bit hesitantly, followed him. 

Most of the crew was already up there, Faster noticed, but there were still some stragglers that continued to board. As the Captain came into view, Faster raised his eyebrows. He was certainly a large enough man, looked like a captain should, with a golden epaulette on each shoulder. Faster thought he seemed a bit weighty for a captain. He pulled his hat down more tightly (a wind was picking up) and waited for Captain Aubrey to speak. 

The tall, uniformed man cleared his throat and straightened his elegant blue hat. "Welcome, Surprises, old and new." The Captain's piercing blue eyes fell on each man. "Let it be known that I am not an easy man to serve under. I believe in discipline, for without discipline, we cannot function in true fellowship. If you disobey orders, fail to pay respects to a superior officer, or violate any of the Articles of War, you will be punished. Severely, if necessary," he added slowly. The Surprises looked on solemnly. "We will set sail at dawn tomorrow--you all know your duties." He nodded and disappeared below deck, presumably to his cabin. 

"Well, then," Nagel said to a group of Defenders surrounding him, "we can't mess with him, can we?" All of the Defenders roared with laughter, excepting Nagel who merely chuckled. Faster laughed for the sake of laughing and he was promptly introduced. 

"Doodle!" they chorused for no particular reason. He laughed as they continuously thumped him on his back. 

"If you ain't on duty, below deck ye go!" shouted a gruff man in a heavy coat and top hat. "Go on, now, all you Defenders. The Captain'll be having no mutinies aboard _this_ ship--you can be sure of that!" 

~


	2. Chapter Two

"Hey, Joe," Faster said, jumping up, "make sure this gets in the mail." He tried to stuff it into the envelope, but Nagel snatched it away. "Leave it, Joe." 

"Who's it to, then?" Nagel asked, glancing at the chicken-scratch writing. He saw the name "Kathleene" at the top. "To a sweetheart, is it? Or a wife?" 

Faster's face flushed. "She's no my wife yet. We plan to marry, but..." He trailed off, embarrassed. 

Nagel smiled and said good-naturedly, "No need to be shy--we're all friends here." 

"Her father," he began slowly, "he don't approve of us marrying. He won't have his daughter wedding a sailor. 'I'm not really a sailor,' I told 'im. He wouldn't listen, so we've been writing letters ever since." He sighed and took a drink from his mug of grog, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand afterwards. "Have you a girl, Joe, back home?" 

Nagel nodded. "Two--a wife and a little girl." Faster was surprised. Nagel didn't look like a married man. How did his family survive when he was at sea? "I didn't think I wanted a girl at first, y'know--can't do much can they, 'sides pleasing men. Now I can't imagine having anything else. Such a right sweetheart, she is." 

"I'd like to meet them," Faster said when Nagel had finished. 

"Maybe you will." He gulped down the rest of his grog ration. Then he pulled off his wool cap and climbed into his hammock. 

Faster, understanding his intentions to sleep, sought out a new area to finish his drink. The galley was still fairly full of tire, but happy crewmen. "Bonden," he said, spotting the Captain's coxswain. "Will the letters go out tomorrow?" 

The Scotsman nodded. "The cap'n says we'll reach Brazil by tomorrow afternoon." He squinted at the book he held in his hand. Faster glanced at the cover and noticed that it was a book of diseases by the _Surprise's_ surgeon, Stephen Maturin. "Sure as the gull flies," Bonden added. "You can give it to Mr Hollom if you'd like. He's in the mid's quarters." 

Faster nodded and made his way down to the midshipmen's quarters. He knew he shouldn't be visiting them at this hour of the night, but he could hear Mr Hollom's Spanish guitar. It was mostly dark but for a candle or two where the thirty-year-old midshipman was quickly strumming his guitar. 

"Pardon, sir," Faster spoke up, saluting quickly. "I've a letter, sir, perhaps you could put it with the others, sir?" 

Hollom took it, stared for a moment, and then replied, "Certainly...is it Doodle?" 

"Yes, sir," Faster answered. "Thank you, sir." He saluted again and left. He had only gone a few paces before he heard the mournful sounds of the guitar again. 

~ 


	3. Chapter Three

All was quiet. The crew was asleep, excepting those on duty. Faster couldn't sleep. He was exhausted from a day of hard work, but for some reason he was unable to rest. His hammock swung back and forth with the pitching of the ship. In the darkness he allowed his mind to wander. He imagined something horrible was happening. He was being tossed from side to side and water was sloshing about the deck. He felt as if he was drowning, the cold water submerging his bare feet. He shivered. Was he dreaming? Was he asleep? Something dripped onto his face and pooled in his eyes, causing him to lift his hand and wipe it away. When it happened again, he opened his eyes. 

Shivering, he sat up and rolled his sleeves down. The wind was howling. He looked around in the dark--Nagel was gone and so was Will Warley, Nagel's best mate. No, he wasn't supposed to be on duty, but he climbed out of the hammock anyway. He left his shoes where they were and walked bare-footed to the other half of the berth deck. "What's going on?" he asked. 

"Storm," said Joe Plaice, Bonden's cousin, "big storm." Faster sat down next to him. Since Plaice's trepanning operation, he had developed a great amount of respect for the wise old man. The wind was howling more loudly now and the crew stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly there was a loud cracking noise and the ship shuddered. Mugs and plates clattered to the floor as the ship tipped sharply upwards. Faster tumbled off of his stool, but managed to take hold of one of the wooden pillars. Water was spilling furiously into the cabin. After the initial cries had ceased, many began muttering worriedly to themselves, some were even praying. Faster said nothing, he simply listened to the chatter and hoped whatever had happened to the ship would be repaired. He shut his eyes as a wave of water poured into the deck, soaking them all. He looked around at the crew--some were vomiting, crying, others remained silent, staring out from sunken faces. 

The ship lurched again, which forced another cry out of most, and righted itself. The crew cheered and Faster even joined in. Though it had only lasted for a few minutes, it had been terrifying--more terrifying than battle by far. He sighed, relieved. The young midshipmen were crying and dancing around, happy to be alive. 

Nearly an hour later, the crew came down to the berth deck. Nagel walked slowly to a more secluded area, carrying a sea chest. "Warley's gone down to the deep, Doodle," somebody said quietly to him. Faster looked at the pained expression on Nagel's face and he made to go over to him. "No," said Joe Plaice. "He doesn't need anyone right now." 

Nagel gulped down a good portion of his grog and wiped his mouth afterwards. He tried not to look at anyone, Faster noticed. He felt terrible even though he hadn't known Warley that well. Faster had met Warley not long after launching, but they hadn't exchanged many words, which Nagel had explained was because "He gets nervous round people he doesn't know." He wanted to approach him, to say something comforting, but he knew that he would never say the right thing. Besides that, Old Joe had advised him against it. Instead, he approached him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Joe." 

Nagel looked up at him, startled. He nodded slightly, and then looked away. His lip quivered and his eyes were blinking rapidly, tears glistening on his lashes. Faster gave his shoulder another squeeze and walked away. 

In the following days Nagel became more surly than usual. He spoke to no one unless he had to. He responded to superior officers with respect, but with a touch of curtness, even spite, especially for Mr Hollom, who was said to have been climbing the rigging when the mast that held Warley had broke. He also drank more, considerably more. If there was any deal he could make with another crewman for his grog, Nagel would make it. 

"You'll be flogged for that," Faster said at one point, as he held fast to the rope. The wind was unusually strong and Bonden was having trouble holding his course. 

Nagel, who was standing above Faster, asked, "For what?" 

Faster's eyes skimmed the deck for nearby officers and he replied heatedly, "What do you think, Joe? You can't be three sheets to the wind on duty!" he hissed. 

"You're saying I'm drunk, then?" Nagel replied in a somewhat annoyed tone. "Maybe you'd like to let the Captain know, then. Go on." 

Faster sighed in exasperation and gave the rope an angry tug. "Getting yourself in the brig's not going to bring Will back," he said at last. 

"What do you know of it?" Nagel snapped. Faster wasn't used to this anger in him. Even when he had been upset, he'd always managed to remain calm around Faster. "You hardly knew Will," he said later. 

"Look," Faster began with slight annoyance. 

"Oy, you there!" Mr Hollar shouted. "Quit yer gabbing and tie off those ropes!" 

Faster sighed and took the rope from Nagel, fastening a knot with his infamous celerity (something that only applied to tying ropes). When both their shifts had ended, Nagel disappeared below deck before Faster could stop him. Faster, though usually even-tempered, was beginning to tire of this game. But for some reason, he could not just let it go. He was on edge, anyway, the whole crew was. Dr Maturin thought it was something in the grog that was troubling everyone, but the crew knew there was a Jonah on board, a bringer of bad luck, a curse upon them all. 

"It's Hollom," said the captain's servant, Killick, later that week. They had lost their wind and working in the sweltering heat had done nothing for their morale. 

Nagel had at least calmed down. He no longer tried to pick fights with everyone on board, but kept quite to himself, surlier than ever. He looked up at Killick from his plate curiously. 

"He's the Jonah," Killick continued. "He's making all this…badness happen." He looked around at the other crewmen for support, but received none from Faster. "It was on his watch that the _Norfolk_ turned up on our tail, and the day we lost our wind. And he was climbing the rigging when poor Warley was lost." 

Joe Plaice nodded meaningfully. "I don't want to wait around to see what'll happen on his next watch." 

Nagel finished his grog with a troubled mind and retired to his hammock. Faster stared after him, thinking about what Killick had said. Much of it had been true, but they must have been coincidences. Then again, what if they weren't? 

"It's absurd, it's _absolutely_ absurd," Dr Maturin nearly shouted. "You're making a mockery of modern science, Jack." 

"You're overreacting, Stephen, I am doing nothing of the sort," said Captain Aubrey, chuckling. "I am sorry if you have not yet discovered that sailors are a superstitious lot. I cannot make them stop thinking of it." 

"I'm not asking you to," Dr Maturin replied quietly, though loud enough for Faster to hear him. The Doctor's quarters were on the berth deck with the rest of the crew, and Faster could nearly hear every word that was said. "I am simply informing you of what I perceive to be going on." 

"I will speak to Mr Hollom," said Captain Aubrey in a pacifying tone. "Goodnight, Stephen." 

Faster breathed deeply. He was beginning to worry about the Jonah, beginning to see that what Killick had said was reason and that Dr Maturin didn't know a thing about it. An excellent doctor he may have been, but what did he know about God's power? 

The next day, Nagel decided to take matters into his own hands. They had just finished scrubbing the deck; Nagel had spent the entire time making rude remarks about Mr Hollom while the other four men had listened. When they had finished, Nagel stood up and made his way toward the bow of the ship. Faster was directly behind him when he not only failed to salute Mr Hollom, but also forcefully shoved his shoulder. As Faster raised his hand in a salute, he heard Captain Aubrey shout out, "You, there, Nagel, stop where you are! Master-at-Arms, take that man below and clap him in irons on the half-deck." Faster turned around long enough to see the Captain's angry and flushed face. 

Faster, thinking about his poor mate in shackles on the half-deck, went about his business with the rigging until his duties were completed. Nagel would be there all day, no doubt, and then they would surely flog him. At the end of Nagel's punishment, Bonden was sent by the Captain to retrieve him. A very sullen Nagel was brought out in front of the entire crew and he looked on, unconcerned, as Captain Aubrey read out the thirty-sixth Article of War. "Two dozen," he said at once. 

Faster found it extremely difficult to watch. Nagel hardly uttered a word after the first stroke. His pale back turned red from the strength and sharpness of the rope whip. It didn't take long for him to begin to bleed, and by the time twenty-four lashes had been dealt, the blood had begun to stain the rim of his trousers. He leant against the grate, pressing his nose onto the splintering wood. 

"Cut him down," Captain Aubrey ordered and the Master-at-Arms removed the bonds on Nagel's wrists and ankles. Faster and Bonden led him slowly away to wash the blood from his back. 

Nagel winced as Bonden used a rag to wipe the blood away. "There's not much more, Joe, almost done," he said gently. Nagel bit hard into his lip, trying to block out the pain of the salt water that was entering his wounds. "The Doctor'll get you some salve for that. Don't fret, that always clears it up straight away." When Bonden had finished they wrapped his body in cloths and all three went below deck. 

Nagel sat down and began eating his supper. He didn't seem to regret what he had done, nor did he seem proud of it. Faster sat down beside him and handed him a mug of grog. "Here," he said, "you can have my ration." 

Nagel shook his head. "No, Doodle, it's _your_ grog." He managed a weak smile. "You've earned it." He winced again. "Besides, I don't deserve anyone's pity. It's my own fault I've shredded me back." He pushed his greasy hair back, so it was out of his face, and sighed. 

Faster set his grog down next to Nagel anyway and smiled. Nagel would be all right in a few days. 

The following day they got back their wind. It was, however, at the cost of Mr Hollom's life, which furthered the suspicion that he had been cursed. Faster believed that he had, but was ashamed for it when the crew paid their respects in recognition of his death. 


	4. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I got swept up in other things and couldn't decide how to end the story. Besides that, if any of you've ever read _The Far Side of the World_, the series of events at the end are a bit confusing. But this is the end, so I hope it meets your approval. I'm in the process of writing a story about Nagel, so some of you might be looking forward to that. 

In the many months that followed, the _Surprise_ found herself in more bad weather, among other things. They passed the Galapagos Islands twice, and presently a good number of her crew found themselves on one of the islands. Faster had only come along to help the poor doctor. He could not be operated on aboard the ship because it was not stable enough. The _Surprise_ departed for some reason Faster wasn't fully aware of and they were all alone on the island, alone but for the American Norfolks on the other side of the stream. The Surprises spent a good deal of their time simply watching the Norfolks from their side of the stream. 

"Ugly bunch of Yanks," Killick said at length as they stood there. "Don't they have nothing better to do than watch us all day." 

"We could say the same to you," one of them called. "Guess they don't own us no more, do they? Not so brave, are they?" He added nastily, "Dirty English pigs." 

After that comment, Nagel grabbed one of his chisels and hurled it at the American, hoping to inflict some real damage. However, he merely succeeded in losing one of his tools. 

After dodging the flying chisel, the Norfolk picked it up and used his shirt to wipe the muck off. "Well, thank you," he said. "I'd always wanted a nice chisel like this one." He grinned, showing two rows of dirty, crooked teeth. 

"Why don't you go back to your rickety damned ship!" Nagel shouted furiously. 

"Brave for a boy who's just lost his chisel--what, are you going to throw something else if I don't?" The American laughed, gaining the support of his fellow shipmates who were also shouting now. 

Faster felt himself becoming angrier as the shouting continued. They were all screaming at each other now and only stopped when both captains appeared. 

"What's all this yelling about?" cried the captain of the _Norfolk_. The Americans pointed across the stream at the Surprises. "Are you the captain of these men?" he questioned of Captain Aubrey. 

"Yes," the Captain replied. "It seems we're all stuck on this bloody island together. You may call me Jack Aubrey." He bowed slightly, gripping his sword. He peered past the Americans, at the _Norfolk_. "It seems your ship is in desperate need of repair." 

"I would hardly use the term _desperate_," said the _Norfolk_ captain. "We merely have to repair our mast." He paused. "And a few of the sails need to be…patched up." He cleared his throat. "Though the war is over, Captain, I would much appreciate it if your crew remained on _that_ side of the stream. I promise my men will remain on this side." 

Captain Aubrey chuckled. "I would agree to that, sir, but I have heard nothing about the end of the war." 

The _Norfolk_ captain looked offended. "Are you calling me a liar?" 

"No, no, not at all," Captain Aubrey said quickly, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. "But I cannot take your word for it. All of my orders come from my commanding officer." He turned to the Surprises. "Men, I believe Mr Lamb is in need of your services." 

Nagel shot the Americans one last sneering glance before following his fellow carpenters. Faster, who was nothing of the sort, didn't know what to do. The Doctor was most likely resting. Besides that, he wouldn't feel right about bothering Doctor Maturin. Bored, he waited by the stream, occasionally throwing his line in the hopes of catching a fish. To his surprise, one of the Americans engaged him in conversation. 

"You know, any day, we'll have another ship," said the American. 

"And any day, our ship will come back for us," Faster retorted. He rolled the pole in his hands, ignoring the American. 

"Are you catching anything?" he asked. "It's Davis, by the way, Charlie Davis." He extended his hand. 

Faster took it, though tentatively. "Michael Doodle." He put the pole aside. "And no, I'm not catching a bloody thing. There's no fish left, nor the like of it, least I can tell." 

"That's too bad," Davis replied. "I'll have to tell the men. They're getting anxious for food already." 

"I have a feeling it's going to be a while before we get off this island," Faster commented, looking out at the sea. 

Several days later, a ship was spotted nearing their island. The Norfolks ran to the water's edge and pushed a group of Surprises hauling equipment to the sandy ground. The Americans cheered enthusiastically and Faster and Nagel watched from the camp. 

"I guess this is the end of the mission," Faster said slowly and regretfully. 

"Damn Americans always have their way," Nagel sneered. "Where's the _Surprise_, anyway? They were supposed to be back by now." 

"Probably off on some tropical island enjoying the comforts of food and women," Faster replied bitterly. But just then the ship revealed her colors. "It's the _Surprise_!" Faster cried, starting down the beach. 

Nagel was right at his heels. "I knew she'd come--she had to come!" 

They all boarded the rowboats with great enthusiasm and the men fought over who rowed, each claiming he could maneuver the oars more quickly. There was a feast waiting for them and plenty of grog to go around. Needless to say, starting their duties in the morning again was very painful to say the least. 

"So, what are you going to do when you get back?" Faster asked that night, while lying in his swinging hammock. 

Nagel smiled. "I've got a wife and daughter back home, don't I?" he said, chuckling joyfully at the thought. "What about you?" 

Faster was silent for a moment, then he said, "I think I'll visit my mother. She's always complaining that I don't see her often enough…You know what mothers are like." He sighed with content and shut his eyes. Well, good-night." 

"G'night." 


End file.
